oddly endearing
by flootzavut
Summary: "Kate never did have much luck with men, and things only got worse after she left the Secret Service. Rachel has started to see why, for all his bad qualities, no one else quite measured up to Leroy Jethro Gibbs as far as Kate was concerned." - Rachel, Gibbs, bourbon and basement. (I'm trying out the app since the site barely works for me these days. An old story but I love it.)


_**A/N:** __This story was based on and inspired by a prompt from the NFA random pairing generator and several quotes/conversations from the show, all of which are listed in the end notes._

* * *

 _ **oddly endearing**_

* * *

 _"Sorry, Kate."_

* * *

Kate never said anything, never so much as hinted she had feelings for him, but Rachel knew her sister well.

Kate complained about Gibbs all the time, but there was something in the way she spoke about him, even when she was detailing the latest injury to her dignity. It was obvious a big part of her frustration was because she so badly wanted Gibbs to respect her, like her, at the same time as finding him maddening. She wanted things from Gibbs he was unable or maybe just not ready to give. He in his turn hadn't ever entirely learned to handle Kate, so far as Rachel can tell.

She's also sure he hasn't yet learned to handle Kate's death. He talks the talk when it comes to moving on, making peace, nothin' wrong with memories, but she's too good at her job not to see it when something she says or does reminds him of Kate and piques sharp pain in his eyes.

* * *

Kate loved him. Of that much Rachel is certain. Kate never said it, never even got close, but Rachel just... knows.

At first, she didn't get it. Sure, Gibbs is handsome, in a weathered sort of a way, but her first impression was not of the kind of person she could see having such a hold over her sister.

Then... then she'd watched him work a case, patiently, doggedly, following leads and seeking justice. Perseverance, compassion, integrity. Despite his forbidding exterior, she's become... strangely fond of him.

Kate never did have much luck with men, and things only got worse after she left the Secret Service. Rachel has started to see why, for all his bad qualities, no one else quite measured up to Leroy Jethro Gibbs as far as Kate was concerned.

* * *

Somewhere along the way, he's become a friend, something she finds equal parts sad and amusing. She's not sure if he ever considered Kate a friend as well as a colleague, though she's certain he considered her family. But she knows Kate tried, at least, to be a friend, when he let her. Wanted to be his friend.

Rachel sometimes feels like she's unfairly reaping the benefits of her sister's efforts, that now he's finally the friend Kate wanted, too late for Kate to enjoy.

Standing in his basement, sipping bourbon from a paint jar... as far as Rachel knows, Kate came here once or twice, tops. She would never have thought her big sister would one day be a semi-regular visitor.

Rachel can vividly imagine Kate pouting slightly at the injustice of it.

* * *

She laughs up at him, and she's just thinking how unusual and how niceit is to see Gibbs' smile untainted by any negative emotion when suddenly his hand is sliding over her cheek and into her hair, and he lowers his mouth and kisses her, soft, romantic, oh so painfully sweet and tender. And so heartfelt that for a second she can't help but respond.

Then, just as quickly, he's pulling away, and judging by his expression he's almost as surprised by it as she was. He blinks down at her, and it takes him a long moment to find his words.

"I'm sorry- you just- for a second..." He looks embarrassed. "You, uh... you reminded me of Katie."

She's never seen Gibbs embarrassed, nor heard him refer to her sister as 'Katie'. She's not even sure she's ever heard him apologise, though she has it on good authority he's done it before.

At least once.

She raises her eyebrows. "I reminded you of Kate?"

"Yeah."

"So you _kissed_ me?"

He squirms. "Yeah."

She can't help it. She laughs.

He contrives to look grumpy and mortified at the same time. "Dunno what's so funny."

She shakes her head, reaches up to squeeze his arm. "Sometimes the choice is laughter or tears. I doubt you'd rather I cried on you."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess not."

"Well, I know I've reminded you of Kate before, but you never kissed me because of it."

It's not exactly a question, she's not quite putting him on the spot, but part of the reason she chose her profession is because she likes to figure out what makes people tick. She has to try.

She holds her breath as she waits to see if he'll take the opening.

He shrugs. "Guess it wasn't the right moment before."

"And this was?" she asks drily.

He pulls a face. "Maybe not. Just-" he shakes his head "-couldn't seem to stop m'self."

It's a more honest answer than she expected.

She studies his face. "So, exactly how often did you kiss my baby sister?"

He sighs, shakes his head. "No, I never actually-" He trails off.

"But you wanted to."

He stills for a second, then lets out another long sigh. "Yeah."

* * *

"Kate would kill me."

"For what?"

"Stealing her kiss."

His forehead wrinkles. "Stealin' it?"

She suddenly realises she shouldn't have let that thought slip out - that it comes a little too close to sharing secrets Kate never intentionally shared even with her.

For a moment she considers telling him her suspicions, how she thinks Kate felt about him, then hurriedly squashes the notion. She wants to reminisce, she wants to remember, but there are some things she needs to keep to herself. She likes Gibbs, she's getting more and more of an insight into his relationship with her sister. She's realising how much he cared, how much he missed Kate when she died - how much he still does.

Telling him they might've had a chance? That she's sure Kate loved him? There are lots of reasons she shouldn't, but above all, she won't do it because it would be cruel.

Instead, she shrugs a shoulder. "Well, you know how sisters can be. If I took something that was rightfully hers, I'd never hear the end of it."

He gives her a wonky smile, and she wonders if he's guessed she's hiding something, holding something back. She thought he'd draw away from her, but instead he's searching her face, like he's expecting to find a clue there, expecting to find understanding.

Eventually he sighs. "Bet I woulda never heard the end of it if I ever had kissed her," he says.

It's an opening she doesn't dare take.

Maybe, maybe one day, she'll figure out a way to tell Gibbs how much he was loved without causing him pain, but in this confusing, surprisingly sweet and yet rather uncomfortable moment, the best she can do is to make sure she doesn't blurt out something she shouldn't.

Gibbs looks at her a few moments more, then turns away, goes to refill his paint jar with bourbon.

Rachel takes a second to breathe and collect herself. Weird as it might be to get unexpectedly kissed by your dead sister's former boss, she's only human. A kiss like that... it still gets her heart racing.

She wishes... she wishes Gibbs'd had a chance to kiss Kate that way. She wishes Kate'd had the chance to bekissed that way.

She wishes so very hard that Kate was still available to be kissed.

When Gibbs turns back to her, his mouth is pressed into an unconvincing smile. He holds up the bottle of bourbon, and Rachel holds out her jar for a top up. It's a bad idea on many levels, but all things considered, how much stranger can her evening get?

That said, once Gibbs has given her a refill, she pointedly goes to sit a few steps up from the bottom of the basement stairs, well out of kissing distance. For all sorts of reasons, she's certain neither of them needs a repeat performance.

* * *

"D'ya think she knew?"

His expression, the ache in his voice... it's a side of Gibbs she's not seen before. And she's seen him in some pretty vulnerable moments.

"Knew what?"

He screws up his face in distaste at having to spell it out. "That I wanted... that I would've..."

"Oh." _Oh_. For some reason, she didn't expect the question, and really, she should have. Should've seen it coming.

She considers her options, then decides to go with honesty. At least this is a less hurtful truth than the others she's trying so hard to hide. And he is, after all, Gibbs. When he's got her pinned with those keen eyes and a stark yes or no question, lying might simply be pointless.

"No." She shakes her head. "I don't think she had a clue." _Any more than you did, you blind fool_. The injustice of it suddenly makes her want to cry.

"Figured not." He nods sadly and scuffs his shoe against the floor. "Prob'ly wouldna made any diff'rence anyway."

Rachel bites down hard on the inside of her lip and swallows all the things she's tempted to say. There's no safe response here.

* * *

It's strangely cathartic to talk about the things they miss.

"She always talked back." He laughs. "Always had an answer or a snark. Always knew best." His voice is warmer now, softer, as he takes out fond memories and lets himself savour them.

It's Rachel's turn to laugh. "Yeah, she was like that as a kid, too."

"You know she threatened to shoot me once?"

She laughs again and shakes her head. She didn't know, but it doesn't surprise her one little bit.

* * *

Silence falls once they're done reminiscing. It's a comfortable silence even though it's filled with nostalgia and love and bittersweet regret. She's both sad and glad someone else still feels the pain as sharply as she does, for all his talk of closure.

He crosses the room and perches himself on the stairs at her feet. For several minutes, he sits quietly, sipping at his bourbon, and when he finally speaks he doesn't look up.

"I miss her. I miss her, Doc."

Rachel can feel the tears prickling in her eyes, and she has no words. She takes a deep, shaky breath, and reaches out to put a hand on his shoulder and offer what comfort she can.

 _Me too, Jethro_ , she thinks. _Me too_.

 _~ fin ~_

* * *

 _ **prompt:**_ _Leroy Jethro Gibbs / Rachel Cranston / Too close for comfort_

* * *

Gibbs: You know, when you were lying there a second ago, you looked just like your sister. You know that?

\- A Man Walks Into A Bar

* * *

Gibbs: Your sister used to look at me like that.

Rachel: Like what?

Gibbs: Ah, cat who ate the canary.

\- Psych Out

* * *

Rachel: Gibbs, not that I don't love a good monosyllabic conversation - it's oddly endearing - it's just that it's after midnight, I'm a little fuzzy.

\- 'Nature of the Beast'


End file.
